A Distant, Secluded Past
by tenrousei-kuroi
Summary: For Regulus, a dream about the past might just change his future. While everything else burns, he holds tightly to his brother. Warnings: violence, non-explicit sexual content, incest, pretentiousness.
1. I had a dream, which was not all a dream

_Sirius/Regulus has become alarmingly popular in the last few years, so I'm going to take that as a sign that stories like this are a little more welcome on this site now?_

_This is just a quick, little story I wrote for a prompt challenge on my LiveJournal account. I wouldn't say it's too great or anything, but I moved it over here just for the hell of it ;)_

Main Characters: Sirius and Regulus Black

Pairings: Sirius/Regulus

Warnings: Violence, slash, incest, language, unspecified religious content.

Chapter titles credit to: George Gordon (Lord Byron)

_Also I feel the need to mention that this was written for a timed prompt challenge, meaning it was all done in less than two hours. Just...keep that in mind._

* * *

_Big brother? Are you awake?_

**Yes, did you need something?**

_I had a dream…_

**Was it a nightmare?**

_Parts of it were, I guess. Some parts were nice though._

**What's with the blush? Come here and sit with me. Look how pretty the full moon is through the window; can you see the stars?**

_Everything's so pretty outside!_

**Mhmm, and peaceful.**

_Will it always be like this?_

**Yes.**

_Was it always like this?_

**I don't know. **

_Well _I_ do._

**Did you dream about the past?**

_Yeah, how did you know? _

**Big brothers are smart like that. Come back here from the window, you'll get cold. Why don't you talk to me about it?**

_Are you sure you want to know? It's kind of long…no changing your mind halfway through!_

**I promise—**

_Hey, don't laugh at me!_

—**I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you tell your whole story**.

_Even if it gets weird in places?_

**Yes, even if it gets weird.**

_I mean like…really strange? You have to promise you won't be mad._

**I won't be angry at you because of a dream, silly.**

_Yeah, well…_

**I **_**promise.**_

_Okay._

…

_Our house is built where the castle used to stand. We're probably right over top of the old dungeons right now!_

**Spooky.**

_You're making fun of me._

**Hey, stop—come back here. I'm sorry, I was kidding. Finish telling me all about how things were in your dream. You know you won't be able to sleep if you don't. Here, come sit with me in the chair by the window, grab that blanket.**

_I'm too old to sit on your lap._

**Ridiculous.**

_Mum says that I need to grow up and be a different person from you—_

**Nonsense, and I'll hear none of it; come here.**

_All right._

**There, comfy? Now talk away, we have all night.**

_Don't do that with my hair, it tickles!_

**As you wish.**

_Don't do that either!_

**My, are you pushy. Well go on then, tell me your dream story—**

—_it was _real.

**If you say so. Let's just think of this as payback for all the nights I had to stay up with you, reading you book after book until you'd finally fall asleep.**

_Okay._

…

_D—do you like how the moon hangs low, just…just kind of skimming the tops of the orchard trees?_

**Yeah, I guess.**

_Well, it did that before, too._

**Did it now?**

_Yes! Really it did! Only these apple trees weren't always here._

**Of course not, Father planted them.**

_There were trees though! The orchard, it was woods! Dark woods that surrounded the castle on ALL sides._

**Dark woods, you say?**

_Yes, and the full moons that shined over _these_ woods were dangerous because they gave _confidence_ to the hideous wolf creatures that lurked in their depths. They were enticed to come out from their Shadowed Places and wreak havoc!_

**That's an awful lot of big words from you.**

_They're not mine. Other people said them to me before._

**When?**

_Just now! Before I came in here!_

**Oh, okay, right…right, right…what are Shadowed Places?**

_The spots in The Darkwoods where no light could ever reach, even on the brightest days in the middle of winter when all the trees' leaves were gone!_

**Of course, how could I be so foolish?**

_Try to keep up with me, okay?_

**Okay, I'll try harder. Was there a queen or a king inside the castle?**

_Yes, a whole Royal Family. Their name and insignia were _everywhere.

**Who were they?**

_The Blacks!_

…

…**Were they a good Royal Family?**

_Sometimes…_

**Sometimes they weren't?**

_They were really young, I think._

**I see. Well go on, then, sweetheart, tell me about them…**

† † †

In the second year of his marriage, Orion Black was given two sons. One from his wife, Walburga, the proud queen of their region, and another from his mistress, _Libra,_ who was a close adviser to the throne. Under normal circumstance, Orion thought his lover to be an ambitious and powerfully magical person, but it seemed she had finally been tricked.

Walburga's son was eight months older, with coal-black hair and light blue eyes that were already slowly darkening to a steely grey. She and Orion named him Sirius and announced his arrival to the whole land. At every available opportunity, they presented him with pride and he was gazed upon with reverence.

Sirius was asleep in his room when Orion's second son was born at precisely twenty minutes to midnight. Carefully, he and his wife examined the child they had been handed, looking over every inch of him.

"He is much smaller," Walburga said critically.

"Yes, but he will grow. Look at his hair…"

She nodded. "As black as a raven's feathers."

"And his eyes…"

"Already grey like mounting storm clouds."

"Perfect."

Libra was executed at dawn.

Walburga and Orion ruled vicariously through an elaborate system of delegated officials, whose reports were frequent, but short. Several hundred aristocrats, high-ranking public officers, and distant, pureblooded relatives lived in and around their secluded castle, but no one else could be found for a hundred miles, perhaps several hundred. So far removed from the sufferings of their subjects, the King and Queen had little consideration for anything other than their power and their wealth.

Time and time again, their delegates brought news of a threatened revolt, yet none were ever successful. The Blacks were wizards, and the Royal Family the most powerful sorcerers at that. No one else could control the monsters in the forest but Orion, Walburga, or their second cousin Libra, whose body now lay in pieces in the stomachs of the very creatures she once ruled.

No weapon was enough to stave off the clever monsters, who upon the painful command of the King and Queen themselves, devoured every trespasser who dared to traverse the woods surrounding the castle. Some made it ten or twenty miles into the thicket of trees and rocks, others not ten or twenty feet. It all depended on how frisky the wolves were feeling; they had some power over themselves, after all.

With the Blacks safely secure behind their shield of dark magic and wolves, no attack could be made; and with the wolves at the ready to travel as far as the Western Sea to assassinate any deserters, there was little room for change.

Yet there was one threat, one rival, who could be kept in check not so easily by pet wolves, but who required a bit more political finesse.

There were others, far to the north, who possessed a magic of their own—an unknown magic. A year previous to Sirius's birth they had come down from the forest mountains of their own lands and began to sniff around Walburga and Orion's own kingdom. They alone had passed through the Darkwoods unharmed, and Orion had executed ten of his wolf pack's pups as punishment, snapped their necks against the ground in front of their mothers, but still they refused to attack.

Angered, he spoke to the leader of this rare troupe of men. He pretended to welcome them.

"Welcome, gentlemen, to the _Torvavetus_—" as he called his home "—I had heard stories of a race hidden away up in the forest mountains to the north, but forgive me, because I had no idea that you still lived."

"Well I assure you, we do," asserted the leader of the company. He was a tall, frightening man with oddly shaped irises and unusually pointed teeth. Orion felt especially young and small when confronted with these rugged men, but all the more superior for their clothes were dull and their skin dirty. Their hair was not soft or sleek like Orion's, it was ratty and faded.

"We've traveled a long way," added one of the feral looking soldiers. "Surely you have food and rooms for us?"

Orion reached out with his magic, feeling, examining. There was a conflicting presence there, a magic that belonged to these people, though he did not understand it; and while he openly displayed his powers (his robes shone unnaturally bright, the torches in the hallways hung suspended in midair, various objects floated obediently to his side when he had need of them) these men had made no advances. They would give nothing away. Orion needed to know how strong they were, just how powerful, before he could make any decisions on how to repress this rising threat.

Soon thereafter, the negotiations began, and with each visit from their northern neighbors, Walburga and Orion became more anxious, knowing something needed to be done. They could not allow the creatures (for they were more beast than man) to gain any leverage, or to secure the upper ground. An heir, _Sirius,_ was deemed necessary.

And it was the potential unknown _powers_ that coiled around these foreigners, the danger they could represent to such an important child, that led to Sirius and his brother growing up together. Every night, whether Sirius protested or not, his parents would carry him down to the hidden room in the dungeons where the youngest Black slept.

Every night Walburga placed him in his brother's bed and they would sleep together. Some nights, Sirius would even cuddle the little one close, kissing him on his forehead, his nose, his mouth, like he saw his father do to Mother some evenings.

Walburga made a disconcerted noise in the back of her throat.

"No," said Orion. "It's good. The closer they are…the more similar they'll grow up to be…

"…And we need them to be exactly the same."


	2. Morn came and went--and brought no day

Sirius's footsteps fell softly on the stone steps. From his bed in the corner by the fire, the boy looked up from his book, cocking his head in the direction of the noise.

Sirius entered his room a moment later, softly swinging the door open and shut. What little light shone from the fire silhouetted his features, but even with no light at all, the child would have recognized his brother.

"Hello, Regulus," Sirius said, trotting over. "What're you reading?"

Regulus's reaction to his name was belated. He had gone the first twelve years of his life without a name at all. It had only been a month or so ago that Sirius, after coming across the name _Regulus_ in a book somewhere, had taken it upon himself to name him.

_Regulus_ _Arcturus Black_.

He was still getting used to it.

"The King, Orion, sent these down to me this morning with my breakfast," he nodded to the three books scattered on the bedspread behind him. "They are the texts you were reading yourself during your lessons yesterday evening."

"Oh, yes I remember now. Boring things, really…except this one," Sirius sat next to Regulus and reached around his back to grab the smallest book. Regulus drew his breath in sharply when he felt Sirius's sleeve brush past him. A spiky feeling coiled up somewhere in his belly.

"This one had something sort of cool in it, I don't remember what page it was on, though," he flipped idly through the book. Regulus abandoned the text he had been holding. Nervously, he leaned closer.

"Hey watch it, you're blocking all of the light," Sirius told him. "And there's really not a lot down here to start with."

"Sorry," Regulus apologized but decidedly did not move. Sirius rolled his eyes and slapped his brother on the arm.

"Brat."

Regulus laughed and scooted back a bit, giving Sirius some light. He crossed his legs and tucked his bare feet underneath him. He stared in admiration of Sirius, who sat before him dressed in the finest royal robes and cloak; they looked stunning on him, even though he flipped the collar up on one side and had every other button undone in a show of casualness. Regulus always looked just as handsome in Sirius's clothes, just as powerful and confident, but right now he was in his room. Right now he was just Regulus, hidden away and studying desperately to know everything his brother would know. To remember everything he remembered.

"Ah, here it is! Look at this, Regulus. _Lyons."_

"What's a Lyon?" asked Regulus, taking the book offered to him.

"Dunno' but it's mentioned there…there at the very bottom."

"Sirius have you drawn in this book? In ink?"

"Yes," Sirius admitted. He followed Regulus's eyes to the right margin of the page where he had been scribbling his idea of just what a Lyon might look like.

"Well your drawing looks like some sort of wolf…but Sirius, you can't go drawing things all over the place!"

"And why not?" asked Sirius, raising a single, coal-black eyebrow.

"Because I cannot!"

"No one's going to ask you to draw, Regulus," Sirius reassured him. "It's okay if you can't."

"Not if your father sees that you're so good at it; he'll make me learn too! And I'm so very busy with everything else, I…"

"Okay, okay," Sirius laughed at Regulus's exasperation. "I'll never draw again, I promise, just calm down."

Regulus looked away. "I'm sorry, Sirius," he said quietly. Why was he being so confrontational? He never got any other visitors down here, not anyone who would talk with him, at least. He really didn't want to drive Sirius away, or make him less inclined to come.

A thought occurred to Regulus. "Did King Orion send you down here to talk to me?" he asked cautiously.

"Nope," said Sirius. "I came just because I wanted to see you."

Regulus's heart leaped.

Sirius saw the brief look of joy that crossed Regulus's face and so threw an arm around him. He pulled Regulus close, breathing deeply the scent of his brother.

Soap, hair oils, parchment and smoke: the same as Sirius.

"Sirius," Regulus murmured suddenly. "What's happened to your neck?"

Carefully he pulled down the high part of Sirius's collar to reveal a rather nasty looking cut that was just now beginning to heal over. It ran nearly the length of his throat and looked like a wound made from a serrated blade. Regulus's eyes widened.

"D—did that hurt?" He didn't question how his brother had gotten it. Sparring, most likely, or dueling.

"It's healing," said Sirius evasively. "I'll keep it hidden for now and no one will notice it. I'm sure it will heal without scarring."

Regulus trembled.

"I'll hide it, Regulus, there will be no scar."

"But what if there is?" Regulus looked to be nearing hyperventilation.

Sirius tried desperately to calm him. "There _won't _be. A—and…and if there is…Regulus, I promise it didn't hurt as much as it looks. Really, it didn't hurt at all. I won't hurt you, I won't let anyone cut you. I _promise._"

Regulus closed his eyes. "Don't make promises you can't hold." He told himself not to worry, there was nothing he could do anyway. He stammered, searching frantically for something to say, something to distract them both. "W—will you read to me about these Lyon creatures that used to exist?"

"Well it doesn't say hardly anything, so I'll just fill in the blanks with what I came up with!"

"All right," Regulus yawned and sprawled out on the bed, soaking up warmth from the fire, trying to store it in his very bones, trying to calm his shivering.

Sirius talked until it looked like Regulus might be asleep. He closed the book and stood up. "Love you, little one. I'll be down after dinner to sleep with you, okay?" He briefly set his hand on Regulus's shoulder before turning away and quietly leaving the room. Before closing Regulus's door behind him, he threw his magic at the fire. It grew brighter, lighter, and warmer. Regulus was always so cold...

Regulus opened his eyes when he heard the door shut behind him. Still as death, he stared into the flames before him. If Sirius loved him, then he supposed he would be fine.


	3. The pall of a past world, and then again

Day or night didn't really matter in the dungeons, because it was always dark, and always cold. Regulus managed to stay fairly cozy in his little room, huddled up by the fire under his blankets. He had seen his fair share of the rest of the castle, but those times only made it harder to climb back down the stairs and into his room. Were it not for his meals, brought at precisely 7 am, noon, and 6 pm, he might have had no handle on the passage of time at all.

He went outside sometimes, but it was never enough to keep his skin exactly the right shade, so the Queen would cast spells on him once a week or so and they would burn gently until he darkened _just so._

The spells really hurt.

It was probably dark outside right now, Regulus figured. According to his charts, the moon was nearly full, and must be casting a beautiful light on the forest.

He wondered vaguely if Sirius would come down and sleep with him tonight. He had every night when they were little, but now he was older, almost thirteen. Things were different now. Sirius understood that he had responsibilities, big ones. He was the Prince, after all. Sirius no longer questioned his parents' rules, he _got _them now, and one of those rules was that Regulus needed to be kept hidden, _always._

It was a line that had been crossed before. As he knelt in front of the fire, desperately stoking it and trying to fill the dungeons with more heat, Regulus remembered the last time Sirius had let him out of his room without permission…

* * *

_Regulus giggled, and laughed, and ran. Sirius chased him. They skimmed the edges of the forest, never daring to go in more than a few steps, too scared of the King's wolves._

"_Don't tell anyone," Sirius whispered to Regulus, who was only eight, and not yet named Regulus. "But when I grow up I am going to be as strong as the werewolves!"_

"_What are werewolves?" asked Regulus fearfully, stumbling many steps back and away from the Darkwoods. _

"_That's what they call the people from the north, the ones Father and Mother are planning to kill."_

_Regulus bit his lip and looked up at his brother with concern. _

"_If your parents want to kill them, why do you want to be like them?"_

"_Well I certainly won't _look_ like them," Sirius scoffed. "They're all really ugly…I just want their magic!"_

"_You have magic of your own," commented Regulus. "And so have I, why should we want another's?"_

"_Because," Sirius explained slowly. He pulled Regulus by the arm back to the start of the woods. He pointed into their blackness. "They are immune to Father's wolves. They have some sort of relation or kinship. They can talk to them…and so they can move freely about the woods. Imagine all the places I could go if I were not surrounded by the king's barrier of wolves!"_

"…_Aren't the werewolves our enemies?"_

"_Yes. I think there's going to be a war soon."_

"_War?" Regulus asked in a small voice, starting to shake. "I don't want to have to fight in a war!"_

"_You won't, silly. I'm the Prince, I'll do the fighting."_

_Regulus shook his head. "Queen Walburga says when things get dangerous, that that's when they'll send me."_

"_Well I'll go as me in your place then," Sirius assured him. _

"_They'll never let you."_

_Sirius laughed. He wrapped both his arms around Regulus and lifted him up. "By the time the war comes, you'll have grown as big as me! And then they'll never be able to tell us apart." He kissed Regulus once on the mouth, deeply, before setting him down. _

"_Come on," he said, taking Regulus's hand. Regulus was still reeling slightly from the kiss. "Let's go to the top of the hill by the lake."_

_Near the shimmering water they spent the next several hours on their hands and knees, gathering poisonous flowers. When the sun hung low in the sky, casting a bleeding red over the world, they walked back to the castle, happy and windswept, and smiling. _

_Regulus should have gone straight back down to his room, he should have known better than to press his luck, but Sirius dragged him along, off and about to other places inside the castle. They stole snacks from the kitchens, and liquor from the study cabinets. Laughing, they shot tiny silver ball bearings at mice outside the library. _

_They ran into several people, but nobody paid them much mind, that was until they had the misfortune to walk straight into the King's closest adviser and younger brother, their uncle, Ignatius._

_As soon as he saw them, a sort of fire started to burn in his eyes. Furious, he seized Sirius by his hair and dragged him off, trusting Regulus to follow._

"_What is wrong with you?" he demanded, storming down to the dungeons and yanking Sirius harshly. "You _come,_" he called back to Regulus, who was too scared to disobey. _

_He turned his ranting back to Sirius. "Did anyone see you?"_

"_W—what?" Sirius stammered. "Of course people saw me, I'm the Prince, everyone knows me!"_

_Their uncle made a frustrated noise as he threw Sirius into Regulus's dark room. Regulus ran in after him and stood next to his brother, shaking. _

"_I'm going to find your father, Sirius, don't even move," he said, and then he was gone. _

_Orion must have been significantly occupied, or else very far away, because it was well over an hour that they waited in the dark, too scared to even start up the fire. When he did arrive though, it was obvious the long wait had not calmed him down. _

"_Sirius," he hissed, snapping the door shut. The room burst into almost unbearable brightness, light glowing from every wall. Regulus blinked hard. "What have I always told you?"_

_He approached Sirius fiercely and grabbed him by the arm. "Answer me!"_

"_I don't know," Sirius sputtered. "Don't go into the Darkwoods? …D—don't interrupt Mother or talk back to you? …Always sh—show up to the tutor on time…?"_

_Orion growled. "NO!" he snapped. "You must not ever be seen together!"_

_Sirius swiveled in his father's grip to look at his brother, who stood cowering behind him. _

"_Never seen together?"_

"_Never!" yelled Orion. "We have told you this, you may never be with him except in this room. There are three hundred and sixty people in this castle and I do not trust all of them. If the wrong person saw you, or God forbid if you were seen during a negotiation, when one of those _creatures_ is here, everything your Mother and I have planned for all these years could be ruined! I won't allow that!"_

"_S—sorry," stammered Sirius, his eyes very wide. His father didn't usually yell at him—_

_Orion struck him hard upside the head._

—_and never before had he hit him. Sirius yelped and tried to get away, but Orion held on to him tightly. _

"_You can _never_ let him out of this room without permission, do you understand?" he said. Again he hit his son._

"_S—stop!" Sirius shrieked, flinging his free arm up to protect his face when his father didn't stop his beating. Regulus stood frozen not ten feet away. _

"Do you understand?" _Orion asked again, at last stopping the punishment. Sirius lay on the ground before him, terribly bruised and bleeding. _

_With effort, Sirius picked himself up off the floor and looked at his father. He wasn't crying. "Yes," he said carefully. "I'm sorry, Father."_

_Orion took a few deep breaths before running a hand over his face. _

"_Do you think that anyone saw you?" he said. _

_Sirius shook his head. "We were outside by the lake for most of the time, we didn't talk to anyone. I'm sorry…"_

_Orion nodded. Then he held out his hand and motioned for Sirius to come closer. Sirius did so cautiously and Orion picked him up. _

"_Just so long as you understand how careful you need to be, my little Prince. I need to keep you safe."_

"_He keeps me safe," Sirius murmured into his father's shoulder, not meaning for him to hear but he did. _

"_Right," Orion kissed his son's forehead and then set him down. "Come here," he said coldly to Regulus. _

_Regulus approached him and gazed hopefully into the King's face, thinking maybe he might get a hug and a kiss as well._

_But Orion knelt down in front of him and grabbed him tightly. _

"_Come over here, Sirius, I need to see your face."_

_Sirius walked over to them. "Father…" he said. _

"_Hush," Orion looked closely at his oldest child before turning back to Regulus. He put one hand firmly behind Regulus's head and with the other drove his fist hard into the side of his face. Regulus cried out and tried to jerk away. _

"_Be still," ordered Orion, turning back to Sirius. "Pull down your collar, Sirius, I need to see how far down the bruises run."_

"_C—can't Mother just heal me, instead?" asked Sirius, pulling up his collar. His mother was good with curing._

"_Your mother is almost a hundred miles away, at the seaside with her sister. She won't be back for weeks, and I've never been good with healing. You'll have to wait it out with those bruises, now show me your throat."_

_Sirius shook his head. "It's not necessary, he can just stay down here!"_

"_It is necessary because, if you'll remember_ anything_ I tell you,__ there is a dinner this Monday in your honor. There will be multiple delegates and foreigners from all over, including the mountains to the north, and I won't have you up there on display for them all. Anything could happen."_

_Sirius, recognizing defeat, fixed his eyes on the ground and tugged down his collar. Orion took his injuries into account and, nodding grimly, set back to work on Regulus. _

_With great reluctance, Sirius was coaxed into displaying every bruise and cut he had been given. He watched in horror as his nameless brother's body was made to match his perfectly. Unashamedly he felt himself crying._

"_That's all," he insisted finally, straightening out his sleeves. "No more."_

_Orion believed him. Nodding, he let go of Regulus, who immediately fled to the corner of the room. _

"_Come on, then, Sirius. You have studying to do, and then dinner should be ready soon."_

"_Can't I stay down here for just a little while?"_

"_No, Sirius, come," Orion took hold of him gently and walked him to the door. _

"_The feast is in three days," he called over his shoulder at Regulus. "Make sure you are completely ready by then."_

_Regulus nodded. Orion took Sirius from the room, and when the door clicked shut, all the extra light vanished. Regulus was left in complete darkness to try and bring to life the fire near his bed before he froze to death…_

* * *

Regulus shook his head bitterly as the fire grew before him. Sitting back, he closed his eyes and sighed. The memory hurt, but it was a good one, too, bittersweet in a way. Sirius had snuck back down straight after dinner to see him, had held him close and apologized over and over again.

Regulus allowed himself a smirk. Sirius Black, who never cried, who never pleaded, had spilled tears and pleas for him in front of the _king. _

For _Regulus. _

If he was assassinated tomorrow, at least he could say he was truly loved.


	4. With curses cast them down upon the dust

Sirius could not keep his promise.

"I'm sorry, Regulus," he said quietly. In his hands, he held a basler, and nervously tightened his fingers around it. "I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. I didn't think anyone would notice. I'm so sorry; I should have been more careful, I should have thought of you before getting myself hurt."

He meant what he said—Sirius, though selfish at times, was not one to lie—but Regulus felt no comfort in his words. It was all the same to him in the end. He fell to his knees in front of his brother and fixed his eyes on the cold dungeon floor. "Is there somewhere I need to be tonight?" he asked.

Sirius nodded, and then, after realizing Regulus wasn't looking at him, said in a deliberately calm voice, "yes. There are more people here at the castle than ever: soldiers, blacksmiths, lesser sorcerers. Even the wolves are feeling the anticipation, though they will do little to help us. Father is convinced the werewolves are poised to attack us at any moment."

"What am I supposed to do?"

Sirius crouched down in front of Regulus and set his dagger on the ground. He took Regulus's head in his hands. "Beat them to it."

Regulus closed his eyes. "How long do I have?"

"Nearly six hours, long enough for the bleeding to stop," said Sirius grimly, taking his basler back in hand. Gently, he threaded his fingers through Regulus's black hair and pulled, exposing his pale throat. "Shh, you must be absolutely still so I don't hit an artery. Don't move, and stop breathing, just for a second."

Regulus stilled obediently, and Sirius, anticipating that his brother would flinch, pressed the blade firmly but harmlessly into the side of his neck. Like he predicted, Regulus jumped a little, but then froze again, and Sirius began to work.

He cut, sawed, and scraped, making a cut as long and wide as his own. The blade, unhappy from moving so slowly, snagged on slices of skin. A warm, metallic scent filled Sirius's head. He finished quickly, and then fell back from Regulus, who instantly clutched his hands to his throat and gasped for air.

Shaking violently, Regulus held his hands before his eyes. Blood ran in dark rivulets down his palms and wrists. Dimly he heard Sirius's weapon clatter to the floor.

Then he was being lifted and taken to his bed where Sirius sat down with him and held him close.

"It's done, it's done…" he whispered over and over again while holding one hand tight against the gash. "It's done, the bleeding will stop soon. Then it won't hurt anymore…"

Regulus wanted to nod, but felt lightheaded. He leaned heavily into Sirius and either passed out or slept.

When Regulus awoke, he was in much the same position. Sirius still had a gentle grip on him, but had all but pulled him into his lap, and was stroking his hair.

"How long's it been?" mumbled Regulus. His head was still a little fuzzy, and he was uncomfortably aware of the blood pounding in his throat.

"A while," Sirius answered, gently smoothing a finger over Regulus's eyebrow.

"Should I be getting ready?"

"Probably," said Sirius, but he didn't move.

With great effort, Regulus sat up. His neck throbbed. "Is that what we're wearing tonight?" he scoffed, indicating Sirius's deep red robes. "I hope I haven't gotten too much blood on them."

"I can get that off," offered Sirius, running his hand over the fabric on his shoulder and side, vanishing the dark stains Regulus had left as he'd laid against him. Once it left the body completely, Sirius could easily magic the blood away, only when it remained stubbornly attached to a person did he have troubles. Even the queen, who was adept at mending bones and bruises, could do little for cuts and slices that allowed blood to pour from their vessels.

Regulus turned away from Sirius and stood up. "As long as I don't have bloodstained clothes to begin with," he said humorlessly. Sighing, he took off his shirt and threw it back on the bed.

Sirius watched as his brother disrobed completely and then stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" he asked.

For a minute, there was silence. Then Sirius motioned for Regulus to come sit by him again.

"If you want my clothes so badly, come take them off me."

Regulus sat back down. "You're impossible," he said, twining his fingers in the clasps of the robes and tugging. Layer by layer, he peeled the expensive outfit off Sirius until finally the two of them were kneeling naked on the bed in a pool of red fabrics.

Sirius leaned forward and kissed Regulus boldly on the corner of his mouth.

"You're going to be fine," he said shakily. "Everything's going to go perfectly. You'll kill their leader, and you'll do it so well that no one will even notice until you're long gone and back here with me, and safe."

"Kill the commander?" asked Regulus. He sounded incredulous. "Is that what the king will have me do tonight? At dinner?"

Sirius wiped the dried blood off Regulus's neck until only the ugly, red scab remained as evidence to the wound. "A war is starting no matter what. These last negotiations, they're just formalities. Mother and Father wish to start the fighting on their own terms, to spill the first blood."

"Hm." Regulus leaned back and Sirius's body followed.

"You'll be…brilliant," Sirius reassured with a cracking voice. "They won't know what hit them, and…and you can tell me all about it afterwards."

"Yes," Regulus agreed mindlessly. He dug his fingernails into his palms desperately to offset the pain and soreness in his neck. Sirius was so close to him, and his breath was ghosting over Regulus's shoulders. He could feel those spikes in his belly again, sharper and more visceral than any time before.

Sirius buried his face in Regulus's neck and they both toppled into the pile of robes on the bed. Regulus felt a wetness again below his chin and at first thought his cut had split back open, but no, Sirius was crying.

"This will be the last time," Sirius insisted. His voice broke as he leaned back to look Regulus in the eyes. Then he leaned down to kiss him again. Their tongues collided and Regulus felt the daggers in his abdomen scraping deliciously against each other. His and Sirius's bodies were creating a maddening friction, driving away his pain and discomfort.

Sirius broke away from his mouth and moved down. Gently he rested his head over Regulus's heart and listened. Regulus played idly with Sirius's hair with one hand, and stroked the fabric surrounding them with the other.

"The last time for what?" he asked, looking away. "The last time you see me? The last time you touch me?"

Sirius moved back up Regulus's chest and kissed his cheek. "The last time I let them send you anywhere in my place," he whispered. "Next time, it will be _my_ turn to protect _you._"

Regulus snorted lightly and pressed his lips to Sirius's forehead. "Next time," he said. "It's always next time, isn't it?"

Sirius whined and ran his hands over Regulus's body. Regulus enjoyed the attention for a few moments before pushing himself and Sirius into sitting positions. "I shouldn't be late to dinner," he insisted. Sirius blinked at him, hurt. "Please help me get dressed."

"Regulus."

Regulus could see, perhaps for the first time ever, true fear in Sirius's eyes, a fear of loss. It threatened to consume him whole. It was with automatic efficiency that Sirius's hands began to move, helping Regulus slip into the clothing he himself had discarded previously.

"The faster I leave…the sooner I can get back," Regulus assured him. It felt strange to be the one making the promises. "And I expect to pick up where we left off."

Sirius tightened Regulus's collar, straightening it _just right._ He smoothed Regulus's ruffled hair and straightened his sleeves in that way only a big brother could manage. He nodded mutely to Regulus's words, too upset to speak.

When Sirius was finished, he stepped back and into Regulus's discarded shirt and pants. As he pulled the shirt over his head, he felt Regulus's small hands helping guide it into place.

"There," said Regulus. "Now you stay here—"

"—Regulus—" Sirius gripped his hand tightly.

"—and I'll be back by midnight, that's a half an hour after the fire dies, and we can switch back."

"Regulus, next time I _promise—"_

Regulus slid his hand out from Sirius's and touched it lightly to his swollen and wounded throat. "Yes, Sirius," he murmured. "Next time."

Regulus gave Sirius one more kiss, which he was too distraught to return, and then turned away. Without any explanation, he picked up the blood stained basler Sirius had carved his neck open with and stowed it inside his robes before exiting the dungeons without a word.

Sirius swore he could feel his heart wrench with every step Regulus took away from him. Alone, he sank to the floor and leaned against the bed, gazing despondently into the fire's writhing flames.


	5. The meagre by the meagre were devour'd

_Lyons, Lyons, Lyons, _Sirius remembered_._ It had been those fucking Lyons. Angrily, he tugged at the fraying hem of Regulus's shirt, pulling out and snapping thread after thread until damn near the whole sleeve threatened to unravel.

It was so dark down here, somehow even more so now that he was alone. Darker than he'd thought. He found himself staring desperately at the dying fire just to assure himself that he wasn't blind.

The memory came crawling back to Sirius, piece by piece. It was something he'd forgotten, and remembering it now gave it an odd, surreal quality.

_Lyons._

Something so stupid as a nickname. Sirius shook his head. What was wrong with him?

* * *

"_Have you come to play with me, Sirius?"_

"_Yes. Father wants you to go to some public event in my stead this evening, as practice."_

_Regulus backed away and sat back down on his bed, dejected. "I asked if you came to play with me," he said quietly. "Not if you'd been sent by the king to collect me."_

"_Idiot," Sirius hit him lightly on the head. "That's not 'til this evening. We've several hours to play before then. Come on," he took Regulus's hand. "I want to teach you how to play the Venatus."_

"_What's that?" asked Regulus, allowing his brother to lead him up from the dark dungeons. _

"_A sort of a game. I have the board in my room."_

_In the ten years that he had been alive, Regulus had rarely left his room for purposes other than to act the part of Sirius. In his immediate memory, he still held the recollection of what had happened the last time he had been caught out of the dungeons with his brother. Immediately, when they were near the top of the stairs, he froze. _

_Sirius looked back at him. "Come on, then. What's wrong now?"_

"_S—Sirius," Regulus choked on his words. "I don't want…I don't want to be caught again and get in trouble. Remember when we ran into your uncle?"_

_Sirius had to think for a moment. "Right…" he nodded. "Yes, I remember, but that won't happen again."_

_Regulus looked at him skeptically. _

"_You won't get hurt, Regulus," Sirius insisted, squeezing his hand. "I'll protect you!"_

"_Really?" Regulus nervously exited the darkness and Sirius closed the large door behind them._

"_Of course," Sirius hugged him from behind and kissed the top of his head. "I'd never let you get hurt," he said proudly. _

"_Okay," said Regulus. He turned around in Sirius's arms and hugged him back. "Okay, I believe you."_

"_Can I have a kiss?" asked Sirius innocently, completely unperturbed by their position in the middle of a long hallway, where any number of people could turn a corner and see them. _

_Regulus smiled and slid his arms up higher around Sirius's torso. "Yeah…" he said, pressing his lips to Sirius's. "Whenever you want…"_

_Sirius led Regulus to his bedroom. Regulus hadn't been in there a lot. It was awfully large and drafty with the fire put out. Frowning, Sirius started it back up again with a flick of his wrist. Regulus watched him partly in awe and partly depressed; anything Sirius was particularly adept at just meant more work for him, and he himself had never had much of an aptitude for flames. _

"_Here," said Sirius, who had since flung himself under his bed only to reemerge clutching to his chest a long, wooden board with strange markings. "Ready to play?"_

"_I don't know how to play with a…Venatus."_

"_I'm going to teach you, silly." _

_They both hopped up onto Sirius's big bed together, and set the dark wooden board in between them._

"_What if someone comes in here?" asked Regulus, still gun-shy from his beating several years ago._

"_I've locked the door," Sirius assured him. "That'll give you plenty of time to hide under the bed."_

_Regulus nodded. _

"_Now here, let me explain the rules to you—"_

"_There are no game pieces."_

"_Shut up, Regulus, you don't need any. Now, let me tell you how to play," scolded Sirius impatiently. _

"_Sorry," Regulus hung his head. _

"_It's okay," said Sirius, taking his hand in his own. "Just be quiet."_

_The rules to this board game seemed awfully complex to Regulus. He wondered briefly if there was any way this would come up while he was Sirius. Would he be expected to be good at this game? To know how to talk strategy about it?_

"_I'm a Lyon, you know," said Sirius unexpectedly. _

_Regulus paused, his hand hovering over the board as he made to take his turn, and quizzically he looked up at Sirius. _

"_A what?" he asked. _

"_Uncle Alphard, he's Mother's little brother, called me that earlier today during one of my lessons. He said I was just like a little Lyon."_

"_A little…Lyon?"_

"_I don't know what they are," Sirius shrugged. "They don't exist anymore, but just so you know, I'm a _big _Lyon to you, because you're smallest."_

"_The Lyons are all gone now?" asked Regulus. _

"_Yeah," said Sirius. He slapped Regulus's hand, reminding him to take his turn. _

_Regulus pushed one of the sliding components of the board to the side and sat back to wait for Sirius's move. _

"_Or maybe they never existed to begin with," said Sirius idly. He undid Regulus's process with a move of his own. Several areas of the board clicked into place. "Nobody really knows, but they were really brave, whatever they were."_

"_I want to be a Lyon, too!" Regulus chirped, sitting up straighter. His grey eyes shined with excitement. _

"_No," said Sirius bluntly. Regulus looked immediately crestfallen._

"_W—why not?" he asked. _

"_Because that's what _I_ am," insisted Sirius. "You can't be one, too, and besides, you're not like a Lyon at all. You're not brave enough."_

_Regulus thought he was quite brave. After all, he was the one preparing to take on any dangerous task that the prince might be asked to face. Sirius was the one who hid away where it was safest. He pouted and refused to take his turn. _

"_You're more like a lizard, anyway," commented Sirius, taking Regulus's turn for him. "Or maybe a snake."_

"_I don't want to be a reptile," Regulus insisted. "They're common, you see them everywhere, and they're not very magical or mysterious at all! How come you get to be the Lyon?"_

"_Because Uncle called _me_ Little Lyon, not you," said Sirius simply. _

"_Your uncle doesn't know I exist," grumbled Regulus. _

"_Exactly, and you don't even have a name. You can't have a nickname, if you don't have a real name first."_

"_Oh…" Regulus sniffed. He didn't much feel like playing with Sirius anymore. He slid off the bed. "I'm going to go back to my room until the King and Queen need me later," he said. _

"_Hey, why're you leaving?" asked Sirius, confused. _

_Regulus didn't answer him. Concerned, Sirius got up and walked to him. He grabbed his sleeve to keep him from leaving. _

"_What's wrong?"_

"_It's not fair," said Regulus, his lower lip trembling. "I'm not me, I'm you. I—I have to be exactly like you in every way, but I can't have the one thing you have that I actually want? I'm not your brother, I'm a defective copy of you, one with all the important pieces missing."_

_Sirius's eyes widened. "You know…?" _

_Regulus looked coldly into his eyes. "I know that I'm your brother, yes. I'm the king's son, too, we both look so much like him, and sometimes…every once and a while, he looks at me the same way he looks at you. Not for very long of course, I mean, he usually catches himself..."_

_Sirius was silent. _

"_It's only because your mother is the Queen, you know," said Regulus fiercely. "That's the only reason you're the real prince and I'm the decoy. If my mother had been the queen, and _you_ the bastard son, they might just have easily have chosen me. Then you'd be the one they didn't love enough to even give a name."_

_Regulus's eyes were burning with a hatred Sirius had never seen before. He didn't like the possibility that Regulus's hostility might be directed at him. Why was he so upset? Just because Sirius said he didn't want to share his pet name?_

"_I'll name you," said Sirius suddenly. Regulus, who had been attempting to twist out of his grasp, stopped and looked up at him. _

"_Huh?"_

"_Someday," said Sirius sincerely. "I'll find a really cool name, the perfect name, and I'll give it to you. Then, when you have a real name, I can give you a nick name. You can be my Little Snake."_

"_I can't be a Lyon?" _

"_No," Sirius shook his head. "Because _I'm_ the Lyon, but this will be just as good, I promise!"_

"_A legless reptile that looks like an overgrown worm is just as good as a mythic creature shrouded in magic and mystery?" asked Regulus incredulously. _

"_Well, nobody knows what they were really like," said Sirius lamely. "They might not have been very cool at all. The point is, you just can't be the same as me…'_

"_It doesn't matter what they were really like," insisted Regulus. "You've built them up in your head as something really amazing, so that might as well just be fact now. I want to be a Lyon, too, just like you."_

"_Well you can't," yelled Sirius. "You cannot be like me, okay? Don't you understand? I don't want you to be exactly like me!"_

"_Well don't worry, then," hissed Regulus. "Because I won't be like you for very much longer. War with the werewolves has been on the horizon for nearly a decade. Soon it will start and there will be plenty of opportunities for me to be killed in your place. Then you can have _you_ all to yourself."_

_Regulus stalked off without another word, presumably off to the dungeons again. Sirius was too hurt and too confused to follow him. _

* * *

Fuck. He'd forgotten entirely about that exchange. Sirius watched miserably as the last embers of the fire died, leaving him in complete blackness.

Did Regulus remember that argument? Sirius had a horrible feeling that he did. Sirius might forget little incidents like that, but Regulus sure didn't. The more he thought about it, the more Sirius wanted to hit his former self. Why couldn't he ever just explain himself?

Sirius hated Regulus's forced copycat act, but not for his own sake. He cared about his brother, he really did, and he wanted him to be himself. That's what he had meant that day. Regulus deserved to have his own life, not this shadow of an existence he lived now.

That was how it should go. He could be Lyon, the big brother, the protector, and Regulus could be his cunning little snake. But he hadn't been able to say that properly, he'd given Regulus the wrong idea, the idea that he resented him, and Regulus had lived with this thought…had harbored it constantly in the back of his mind.

Sirius swallowed and stood up shakily. He flung out his hands to grasp the bedpost and steady himself before he tried walking through the darkness. Arms outstretched, he stumbled for the door.

He needed to go now, he needed to prepare some things.

He needed to explain himself to Regulus, to correct the wrong opinions his little brother had of him. Before it was too late, before something bad happened to him…His little brother was going to start a war, he was going to get hurt, he was going to be killed, all for Sirius to remain safe. Sirius had to find him before something horrible happened. He needed to explain himself...

And he had to leave this castle for good, and make absolutely sure he couldn't ever be followed.


	6. But two of an enormous city did survive

A cold chill overtook Regulus. His concealed weapon hung heavy, weighing down one side of his robes. He did his best to sit straight and even. There were so many people in the dining hall.

The wound on his neck felt like it was going to split open again every time he swallowed, but he couldn't stop eating; Sirius always ate so much, he had such an appetite. Regulus took a large drink of his wine, hoping for some relief, anything. From across the table, the Queen glared daggers at him and he lowered his eyes briefly.

No more alcohol, his senses had to remain functional.

The forced conversation, the fake niceties, it all seemed to go on forever. Regulus's entire body was tingling. He felt he might, at any moment, lose his mind and attack the man in front of everyone, just to get it over with.

Finally, the king and queen, their closest advisers, the werewolves' leader, and six or seven of the beasts themselves retired into the smoking room for drugs and further futile conversation. Regulus followed behind them, confident.

What did he have to lose?

(Sirius dashed across hallways, tumbled down steps)

He needed to draw his target out, kill him quietly. He needed to wait calmly. He needed to wait…

(Sirius knocked pictures off the walls; the fires in the hearths burned brighter)

Regulus's hand slid inside his robes as everyone around him took a seat. Their voiced droned in his head like buzzing insects. His fingers tightened around the handle of Sirius's knife. Regulus alone remained standing.

(Sirius shoved out of his way servants, strangers, family members…and stormed outside while the castle's insides caught fire)

Regulus knew he should be careful and do this exactly like his parents wanted. He should sit through this conversation and follow the leader to his sleeping chambers, slit his throat in the hallway just before he entered for the night. He should avoid causing a scene.

But if the King and Queen truly wanted war, he thought, then let them be there when it started, let them deal with what they wished for.

Regulus walked on shaky legs towards his target until he stood directly behind him. Eyes were just starting to swivel towards him from all over the room when an onslaught of panicked screaming erupted out of nowhere. For an instant, Regulus thought he had been found out too early, but then he realized the yelling was coming from outside the room.

Everyone immediately rushed up, Regulus's awkward standing forgotten, and hurried out the door, back into the main dining chamber.

(Sirius stood on the edge of the forest, staring with concentration)

Everything was in chaos. Smoke quickly billowed in from under every door, and from spaces in the ceiling. People ran, panicking, back and forth, as though they were suddenly unable to remember how to exit the castle.

"Son of a bitch," Regulus muttered as he realized that Sirius must have done this. Sirius the pyrotechnic had set the whole place aflame…with Regulus inside!

Regulus could feel the adults pushing past him, making fast for whatever doorway led out of this labyrinth. No one urged him along, even his father and stepmother knocked him roughly aside.

(Somewhere from out the darkness, Sirius could make out the silhouettes of the restless wolves, as they stood near the edge of their domain, anxious)

Regulus snarled and latched onto the nearest person. It was hard to see in the smoke, but then the man hissed, "let go," and Regulus recognized who it was. He smiled triumphantly and, under the cover of the thick smoke and screaming, embedded his brother's basler deep into the werewolf's sternum. Something cracked, and a warm liquid rushed out over his hand.

His victim hollered and thrashed, knocking him in the face. Regulus let go of the knife and stumbled backwards. He could hardly bear to open his eyes, and when he did, all he saw now was grey.

Regulus sank to the ground, low enough to protect himself from the worst of the burning air. To his right, he saw the werewolf collapse, convulsing. All around him he could still hear voices, people slamming doors, and somewhere amongst it all, he could feel his father's magic attempting without success to slow the fire and clear the smoke. The Queen's magic was nowhere to be found.

(Sirius approached the northernmost tree on the edge of the forest. He gently touched its lowest branch. The entire tree ignited, and through its limbs sent fire to its neighbors. The wolves leaped out of the trees. At first he thought they might attack him, but they only surged past, panting and howling as though experiencing great torment. Sirius smiled to himself. Their distress could only mean Regulus had succeeded in his endeavor)

Regulus crawled to the dead man, and yanked the weapon out of his chest with his blood-soaked hands. Grimly, he made his way to the nearest hallway where the smoke was lighter. There, he staggered to his feet and, hunkered over, dashed down the corridor. No one else had gone this way. They had all either passed out back in the dining hall or fled to another, much slower, exit.

If there had been any doubt in his mind that Sirius had started this fire before, now there was none. Even the stone walls were igniting as the flames spread at an unnatural pace, burning everything, and smoking much more than was normally possible. Coughing, Regulus dashed down a flight of stairs and immediately threw himself at a window. He was still on the second floor, but this was as far as he was going to get; the fire was too close now to run any further.

He threw half of his body out the window and managed three breaths of fresh air before the smoke caught up to him, sweeping in from behind. Regulus looked down and immediately felt a horrendous rush of vertigo.

(…Regulus. Sirius turned from the burning woods to face the castle. He hadn't meant for the fires to spread this quickly. He had assumed there would have been plenty of time for Regulus to get out. He'd been reckless, impulsive, and now he would sit back and wait while Regulus was in danger?..."No. Not again, not now, Regulus, it is my turn to protect you")

The wolves had left the forest, and were surging around in packs around the edge of the castle. Several of them took note of Regulus's head poking out of the window and immediately gathered below it. One by one, they surged up the wall as far as they could manage before snapping angrily and sliding back down, nails chipping rock. Were they attacking him at random, or could they possible know who he had just killed? Regulus could feel the impending heat behind him and knew he had no choice. Basler in hand, he climbed out the window and as far down as he could before his grip gave way and he fell.

The impact knocked the wind out of him, and before he could regain it, he was set upon by the howling monsters. Desperately, he slashed his blade at the wolves until it was sent careening from is grip.

"Get off," he screamed. "Sirius!"

He called for his brother again and again, thrashing and trying to protect his face and vital organs from the surrounding teeth and claws.

And Sirius found him. Not immediately, of course, Regulus felt that he took his damn time, but eventually he showed up. He picked up Regulus's fallen weapon and drove it into the neck of the nearest wolf. From the gushing wound sprung even more of Sirius's uncontrollable flames. When the others heard the scream, and saw their comrade fallen dead and smoldering at Sirius's feet, they retreated. They joined the rest of their pack.

Sirius wasted no time in standing Regulus up.

"Are you okay, Reggie?" he asked, frantically wiping at his brother's face in an attempt to determine how much of the blood was his own.

Regulus jerked away from him. "I'm fine," he spat, coughing. "Your decorations?" he asked, indicating the fire, which was rapidly encasing the entire area as the surrounding woods continued to burn.

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking clearly. And I didn't expect everything to burn so quickly…I was coming to get you," Sirius pulled Regulus into a quick hug. His little brother was exhausted and bleeding, but not dying.

Regulus tried to hide how much he was shaking. "Oh, my hero, my prince," he scoffed. "If you'd managed to kill me, would it have been murder or suicide?"

Sirius didn't answer him and instead insisted, "we have to go now."

"Go where?" Regulus screeched when Sirius tugged painfully on his arm, dragging him into the last fire-free section of the forest. "Everyone's dead, we're no one now, we have nothing."

"You might have nothing," Sirius conceded while they ran. "I have everything."

Regulus, coughing and panting, was only able to keep up with his brother from sheer adrenaline. He knew he would probably collapse later and sleep for days, but at the moment, he felt nothing. In that instant, he could run forever. The two of them slipped and slid on the undergrowth.

"What are you talking about?" Regulus gasped. He and Sirius made it to the Eastern River just as the fire closed in behind them. They crossed it and collapsed on the other side.

Sirius knew the water would slow his fire down, but not completely stop it, so he urged his brother onwards again and for a very long time, they walked, running when they could. They traveled east while everything behind them burned. It was hours before Sirius finally answered Regulus.

When they stopped moving altogether, everything safely behind them, Regulus's fatigue caught up with him and he collapsed against his brother, minutes away from sleep.

Sirius kissed his temple, his cheek, his nose, his mouth. He ran his fingers through his sooty hair. "I've got you, little Lyon" he said simply. "I've got you with me forever."

† † †

**Wake up, Reg, get your things.**

_Mmm, what? For what? Are we going somewhere? It's still nighttime…_

**That's the point, little brother. Grab everything you can't live without. **

_Is this some sort of adventure?_

**Knew you'd be excited. Dead sure you trust me, now?**

_With everything._

**Good. Now here, put your jacket on. Winds are outside and there's snow on the western horizon. All the time in the world and plenty of sunshine coming up on the eastern road, though…**

* * *

"and the clouds perish'd: Darkness had no need of aid from them—She was the Universe"

†the end†

_signed/tenkuroi_


End file.
